Dear Daughters,
When Dad and I arrived in Idaho last November, Grandpa’s garden plot was empty, the rose bushes covered with burlap bags. All the trees, raspberry, blackberry and grape vines were pruned and looked like nothing but dead stumps.
The garden reflected my heart. Our third move in six years, I was weary, weak, lonely and sad. We had just said good-bye to all of you a few weeks earlier, tears shed, gifts given, farewells still echoing in my mind. It was not my choice to leave Michigan, which had been home for more than 20 years, but we are not always given a choice in life.
I felt like a burned up, chopped off stump.
During those two decades in Michigan, God’s hand had led us from place to place, and at each home we had made friends, discovering more and more the wonder of people and the grace of God.
I had given thanks, often with tears, simply because I know that Jesus is honored by gratitude – especially when it seems there is little to be grateful for. As Saint John of Avila wrote over 500 years ago:
One act of thanksgiving , when things go wrong with us,
is worth a thousand thanks when things are agreeable to our inclinations.
So I reluctantly gave thanks as we drove the 1600 miles west, not feeling especially thankful, but simply as an exercise in trust. Trusting that God had not made an error and now this was Plan B, but knowing that Idaho is where he wanted us for the next chapter of our lives, we had accepted the invitation to come and care for Grandpa and Grandma as their bodies and minds were becoming frail.
Spring finally came to the garden, green shoots pushing up through the dark soil. Tulips appeared, leaves started growing on the trailing grapevines, life came to this previously desolate, barren garden. As Dad and I slowly learned our roles in caretaking, I started coming to life as well. During these past 12 months of living in Idaho I have found joy in serving – no, not every minute of the day – but there is a quiet peace of knowing that I am in the center of God’s will.
Jesus gave his disciples a lesson in pruning the night before he was killed. He said that we are all going to be pruned. The reason for the pruning is that he wants us to bear more fruit, just like a gardener wants the most fruit possible from his trees and vines.
The only way a gardener can get lots of good fruit is to prune his garden. Pruning seems heartless, uncaring, even brutal when you watch him lop off all those beautiful branches and vines. But it’s really the most loving, compassionate act he can do for his plants.
As Jesus told his disciples in John 15:
I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.
Basically you will be pruned if you are not bearing fruit and you’ll be pruned if you are bearing fruit. So, I guess we should simply expect to be pruned. It hurts, it is not pleasant at the time, and it’s certainly not something that we ever ask for. But the results of pruning are so beautiful – lots and lots of scrumptious, delicious fruit.
And what is this fruit He talks about? It’s the fruit of the Holy Spirit that is spoken of in Galatians: Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.
I know that I need to mature in each of those character traits, and of course the only way we can grow is by being pruned – going through difficult times. It certainly doesn’t happen when everything is going our way.
Right now you may be looking at the fence line of your life, feeling branches being hacked off, battered by circumstances in your life, feeling anger toward God for what is happening. Maybe your husband isn’t doing what you would like him to do (or not to do). Your job may be frustrating and constricting to you. Perhaps your body isn’t working as well as you’d like. Friends may have abandoned you when you needed them the most. Your children are not always loving and respectful to you.
I know I’ve said it many times before, but God truly loves you and is tending your life, leading you into the path He wants you to go. He is the Master Gardener, the true lover of your heart and his goal is to make you beautiful.
Last week Dad and I were at Mesa Falls, an hour south of Yellowstone Park. 
It is a magnificent waterfall, carved into the lava over thousands of years, and now simply breathtaking to observe. Near the scenic viewing area stands a brief history of the falls along with this quote:
The beauty of Mesa Falls was born of a tumultuous past.
When I read that statement I thought, That’s how people become beautiful as well. We, as well as the splendor in God’s creation, only become beautiful when we have had a difficult past and have come through it, stronger, braver, more compassionate and loving. If we trust Jesus during the pruning times in our lives, knowing He is the Master Gardener, we can learn to be grateful and patiently wait for His good work to be done in us.
When you are in a dark winter place, it seems sometimes as though you are forgotten, unloved and overlooked; but it simply isn’t true. Keep on persevering in your marriage, your friendships, and your children, and you will bear fruit – lots of good fruit.
I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. – Jesus
Love, Mom
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